


My Name is Gabranth

by MeinNameIstJette



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Anger, Childhood Memories, Flashbacks, Gen, Memories, lots of emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:56:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29662104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeinNameIstJette/pseuds/MeinNameIstJette
Summary: Gabranth reflects on the events that turned him into the Judge Magister that he is today.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	My Name is Gabranth

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank both **Caillieach** and **Octomerlin** for listening to me, inspiring me, and giving me great feedback.

_ Once upon a time, there were two boys. _

_ They lived happily with both their mother and father on a farm just outside a village. The land was abundant, there was nothing either of them could ever want with how blessed they had been. Fortunate.  _

A hand clenches tightly, the sound of leather creaking the only indication that there was any movement as the figure sits perfectly still. Expressionless thanks to the horned helmet adorning his head. It was one of few times that Gabranth is grateful for the gaudy and ornate armour acting more than just a physical barrier but an emotional one too. A necessary one for today. 

“It’s important that we secure our territories in case of insurrections. If we’re planning to take Dalmasca, we need to crack down on what we have already to set an example.” Judge Magister Bergan drones on. 

An idiot of a man and yet in just a powerful position as some of the more upstanding Judges. 

The few upstanding Judges. 

There is a rustling from the other side of the table and the unmistakable sound of armour clinking whenever a Judge Magister so happened to shift in their seat. It was impossible to sit completely still during such a long meeting. These meetings were ones that Garbanth couldn’t help but dread with how volatile they tended to get and especially towards him. The one and only foreign Judge Magister in their ranks. As much as Gabranth wished to forget this particular detail, it was one that he was constantly reminded of. 

“Rozzaria has been oddly docile these past months. It worries me.” Judge Zargaabath speaks up. It was a gentle reminder that they should be paying attention to Archadia’s biggest threat. Gabranth also suspects that it’s an opening to invite him to speak. However, he would not. Not today. 

Not when he felt so incredibly hot. A heat juxtaposed with the cool autumn breeze sipping in through the open windows. They were open to keep the room ventilated and this would have been a pleasing breeze if Gabranth didn’t feel as if there was a fire burning directly at his feet. 

He doesn’t move. He endures it. If he stopped focusing on that feeling, it would hopefully go away, replaced with the cool air that he’s been hoping to feel for the past hour. 

_ The flames licked up the sides of a house, eating away at the wood. That same wood that had been the foundation of what  _ **_he_ ** _ had perceived as being a happy childhood. Where there should have been screams and sobs, the boy only hears a white static as he gazes at the destruction occurring right in front of him.  _

_ His heart clenches, knocking the wind out of him. The heat from the fire causing his eyes to water especially after a wickedly hot flame whips close enough to him that he can feel the threat of a burn.  _

_ The smoke was just making it harder and the house wasn’t entirely engulfed in flames yet.  _

_ Grey-blue eyes flash across the boy’s mind and the fear that had riddled his still-growing body is replaced by anger. His fists curl and then clench as he tries to calm himself. Swallowing around a lump but quickly realising that his mouth is so dry it only hurts. Reminds him of the sweltering heat around him.  _

_ Basch, you traitor.  _

“Judge Magister Gabranth! Are you paying attention?” A muffled voice both inquires and criticizes at the same time. 

A hidden gaze glances over at the owner of the voice. Brows knit together as he loosens the fist he hadn’t realised he had been clenching. Gabranth inhales deeply before exhaling and that’s when all the tension in his body seems to ease away. Rather, gives the illusion that it has eased away. 

“Yes, Judge Magister Ghis. However, I have nothing to add to the conversation. You’ve made your position clear.” He replies coolly. Aware that he hadn’t been paying full attention. He remembers Bergan speaking and knows that he missed Ghis’ part. However, Gabranth also knows that he almost never has anything to say to the man. He’d learned long ago that there was no point in suggesting anything when it was always met with indignation and poor rebuttals. 

Gabranth can feel the judgmental stare of the man in question. A stare he had forced himself to acclimatize to and one fitting of the position bestowed upon him. It was a stare that he had come to resent in the same way, underneath all his hate and anger, he resented Archadia. 

Except, the catalyst to everything that had happened that fateful day could easily be linked back to one man.

**Things could have been different.** Gabranth’s mind screams at him. It echoes in his helmet but remains unheard to the others. Thankfully. 

_ He can feel his body continue shaking with unadulterated  _ **_rage_ ** _. It’s only the sound of wood cracking that pulls the boy back to the present as he pulls himself off the ground, wiping his face as best as he can of the sweat, and then carefully making his way up the slowly burning staircase. He can feel the groan of one stair as he speeds up until he’s safely at the top.  _

_ The boy pauses to catch his breath. Well, try to catch his breath, as he realises the smoke around him was making it hard to breath.  _

_ “Mother! Where are you?”  _

_ Faint coughing can be heard down the hallway.  _

_ “Basch? Is that you?”  _

_ The boy feels his jaw lock as his Adam's apple bobs up and down.  _

“Gabranth, are you alright? You haven’t been yourself this entire meeting.” The soothing sound of Drace’s voice breaks through the chaos in his head. 

He mechanically turns his head to regard her. “I’m fine, Drace. I appreciate your worry.” 

If it weren’t for the helmet Gabranth would have sworn she would be scrutinizing him, in fact, she probably was. However, there wouldn’t be much to see. Not with this helmet. 

_ “No, Mother, it’s me, Noah. Basch isn’t here.” The boy says as he tries to soothe his mother in spite of his hurt. _

_ Those words hurt. Far more than the boy cared to admit. He has to swallow that pain in favour of his mother’s well-being which is his current priority.  _

_ “Noah...oh, Noah.” There was a tenderness in her voice that has him momentarily forgetting the sting of her previous words.  _

_ He can feel her hand cup his cheek and without hesitating further the boy pulls her into his arms and then carefully heaves her up.  _

Gabranth’s arms hurt. 

He’d been on the training mats for over an hour. Sweat dripping down his face and his  _ long  _ hair tied back in a small ponytail. 

The reminder of its length has him striking down at the target even harder. Too hard. 

The splintering of wood can be heard before the thing cracks in two. 

“Hold onto that anger, Gabranth.” Comes a silky voice from behind. It has the Judge Magister straightening tensely before he’s looking over his shoulder at a man clad in green. “You will need it for later.”

As if he would ever run out of anger. Gabranth can’t help but think to himself as he wipes at the sweat on his forehead. 

“Lord Vayne.” He greets and even through his exhaustion, there are no emotions. He feels so deeply and yet he shows so little. 

“At ease Gabranth.” Vayne raises a hand and moves forward with a grace Gabranth had never seen in any man. He watches as the young Solidor rounds the cracked target, the way his eyes study every inch of it, from one splinter to the next, as if the target would offer him hidden secrets on Gabranth that no record currently holds. 

It has Gabranth feeling uneasy as he moves to grab a towel to wipe at his forehead and he sets his practice swords down against the rack. 

Those eyes fall back on Gabranth and he watches as they take in his longer hair. For a split second, Gabranth feels anger well back up in him, waiting for Lord Vayne to make a comment on how he resembles his brother but nothing comes. 

There was apprehension in those eyes and Gabranth is reminded that even in Vayne’s youth, his ability to pick up on subtle social cues is impressive. The man was a genius tactician and it showed in all of his speeches and in every silence. 

This man should never be taken lightly. 

“We’ve secured a location for the peace treaty signing. It will be a month from now. Lull them into a false sense of security. The layout of the location will be on your desk. I suggest you acquaint yourself with it. We cannot afford having any piece out of place.” 

“Of course, Lord Vayne.” Gabranth nods. 

Silence falls between them as Vayne looks around. There was nothing more to be said and frankly Gabranth wanted to be left alone. His hazel gaze follows Vayne’s far too casual gait as the young man makes his way towards the double-doors leading out of the training room. 

It’s clear Vayne has known all along that he was being watched so he inclines his head at Garbanth and then steps out. 

_ “Gabranth, Noah Gabranth.” The boy introduces his mother held tightly against him as he heaves her up so she doesn’t slip from his arms.  _

_ He can feel his mother try to glance up, he imagines she’s probably wondering why he had used her maiden name, it was because the moment Landis had fallen and Basch nowhere to be seen, that Noah fon Ronsenburg had died.  _

_ “And who is she?” The guard points his fountain pen at his mother.  _

_ “My mother. She is not well, sir. Please, she needs help. She is an Archadian citizen.” The boy explains. The stress of the past several days finally seeping into his voice. It’s not lost on the guard from what the boy can see.  _

_ “Do you have her papers?”  _

_ The heat of fire licking up the boy’s arms almost has him dropping his mother, however, he returns to the present once the guard’s hand has clamped down on his shoulder. Blue eyes are staring at him questioningly and it takes the boy a second to properly anchor himself.  _

_ “N-no. They were lost in a fire.” He finally answers, dropping his gaze and trying not to look frustrated. Angry.  _

“Gabranth, I need you to look after Larsa for a few hours. I’ve been called to deal with a situation in Old Archades.” Drace explains looking unimpressed. 

Any business in Old Archades was hardly a matter any of the Judge Magisters’ wanted to deal with but there were times where they would be called upon to resolve certain….issues. 

“Where may I find Lord Larsa?” Gabranth sighs as he straightens a stack of paper on his desks before he stands, grabs his helmet, and steps around it. 

“In his room.” Drace states as if it were the most obvious answer. 

It wasn’t but he would let it slide. Gabranth places his helmet back on and motions for Drace to follow him out of his office. They walk through the elegant looking corridors together and Drace is the one to break the silence. Gabranth suspects his silence was uncomfortable and most likely heavy. 

“You better be a little more talkative with Lord Larsa than you are with me. Treat him well, Gabranth. I don’t want your sour mood upsetting him.” Drace scowls. 

“Understood, Drace. Is there anything else you’d like to lecture me about?” Gabranth replies voice even which seems to irritate Drace further but this time she doesn’t comment on it. It’s clear she knows when to prod and when to let things go. 

This moment was one to let go and Gabranth appreciates her tack. 

“I should be back to tuck Lord Larsa into bed.” Drace goes on to explain. The scrutinizing look isn’t lost on Gabranth but he’s too tired to comment on it. 

The clock was ticking after all and it was less than a month now until he needed to deal with a certain issue from his past. 

“If you’re not back, I am familiar with Lord Larsa’s bed routines. I will make sure he settles for the night and that he knows you’ll be back to greet him in the morning. If he has any questions I will answer them appropriately. Now go.” 

This seems to be enough for Drace because she offers Gabranth a small smile, nods and then pivots and heads back down the way they had come. 

_ “Calling all strong young men!” A man bellows from the top of the stairs leading along the bridge to Archades proper. “If you enlist to the Judge Academy now, you will be given a special permit allowing you in and out of Old Archades until your studies are over! Glory for Archadia! And! An opportunity to move you and your family up to Molberry upon successful completion! Once in a lifetime opportunity, don’t miss out! We’ll be here all evening to help with enlistment papers to the academy!”  _

_ The boy glances around as he steps forward. “How long does it take to graduate from the academy?!” He calls up at the recruiter.  _

_ The question seems to interest everyone because it gets quiet as the recruiter turns to look at him. There’s interest in the man’s eyes, it was very easy to see. The boy watches a slow grin spread across his face as he takes in the sight of him.  _

_ “Well boy, that all depends on you and your aptitude for success.”  _

_ His aptitude for success...  _ _ The boy glances over his shoulder in the direction of where he was living with his sick mother.  _

_ She needed help. Help that he could not offer her with his limited knowledge of medicine and magic. His hazel gaze falls back on the grinning man as he straightens to look taller, broader.  _ _ “Where do I sign up?”  _


End file.
